


6 Lessons to Live By

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-27
Updated: 2006-06-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Oohhh - this is just porn. Probably. With a sprinkling of plot. Okay, really the plot is porn.





	1. Chapter 1 - Lessons 1-3

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**6 Lessons to Live By (JA/JP) NC-17**

  
 

**Title:** 6 Lessons to Live By (As Told By Jared Padalecki)  
 **Author:** [ ](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/profile)[**keepaofthecheez**](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/)  
 **Characters:** JA/JP, J2, Padackles (Best. Word. EVER.)  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** 11, 605  
 **Disclaimer:** Pshaw…yeah, I own them! And fluffy pink donkeys dance on my ceiling at five in the afternoon, singing “I Touch Myself”.  
 **Summary:** Oohhh…this is just porn. Probably. With a sprinkling of plot. Okay, really the plot is porn.  
 **Notes:** God, this fandom has eaten my brain. First incest, now RPS? *dies*  
Thanks to my beta [ ](http://rachel-shanz.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_shanz**](http://rachel-shanz.livejournal.com/)  
  
  
  
  
 

**Lesson # 1: _You Can Pick Your Friends, And Pick Your Nose, But You Can’t Wipe Your Friends On the Couch_**

  
  
  
Jared had never had a problem talking, but when he got around Jensen, whatever filters he had in place ceased to exist. Whatever dark secrets he’d ever possessed had been blurted out over beer and stale pretzels months ago, and honestly, were usually pretty stupid to begin with.  
  
The time he set himself on fire during a reenactment of the Battle of the Alamo.  
  
Hooking up with twin sisters at the same after-party, and being none the wiser until sister A returned to the scene to find sister B getting friendly with Jared’s oversized belt buckle.  
  
There was also that one time he and a friend back home had _sortakinda_ gotten drunk and jerked off together. _Just for the helluvit_ , he remembered adding when Jensen had given a single blink in response.  
  
And that was so fucking _Jen_. His reactions varied from barely obvious, to practically nonexistent. Jared often wondered if he could make up some off-the-wall shit…tell Jen that he’d once humped a statue of the Virgin Mary, and his friend would just look at him with that same irritatingly vague smile and drawl, “Well, all right then.”  
  
The bottom line was that Jensen knew way more about Jared than Jared had ever dreamed of knowing about Jensen. Now, that’s not to say that he and Jensen weren’t close. Because they were – probably closer than two guys had any right to be after only a few months of filming. And granted, they were together in virtually every scene, every moment of every day, but that didn’t necessarily constitute a friendship in acting circles.  
  
No, what did it was that they were so damn alike, and yet so fucking _different_. Jared was a self-proclaimed goofball, whereas Jensen played the mature sophisticate to perfection. Jared embraced his Texan roots, and while Jen never spoke ill of their home state, he went out of his way to conform to the expected Californian ways. His accent only came out when he was pissed off or drunk, and even then Jared was so much worse that hardly anyone ever noticed.   
  
Jared was straight and had a girlfriend, and Jensen occasionally messed around with guys. All that time on a soap opera, Jared would mock him, trying to act like the aloof grin Jen would shoot back had no affect whatsoever.  
  
They balanced each other out, tit for tat. _Like a fucking married couple_ he’d heard Kripke remark on more than one occasion.   
  
And at first it’d been amusing, because Jared knew something nearly everyone else was in the dark about. Jensen wasn’t as shy and reserved as he seemed. The guy could talk your ear off about everything from football to global warming if you caught him at the right time and place. His stand-offishness was less due to any supposed insecurity and more due to the fact that Jensen just didn’t give a damn.  
  
Case in point, Jared had just gotten an email from his friend and former co-star, Chad Michael Murray.  
  
The message simply read “ _Don’t watch the news, man. Just don’t._ ”  
  
Of course, that was like dangling a large steak over a pit-bull, so the first chance he got Jared flipped on Entertainment Tonight and was soon embroiled in the latest scandal his best friend’s life had become.  
  
He was sitting there, shaking his head and debating on whether he should call Chad up and laugh his ass off, or offer some kind of support, when Jensen walked through the door with a grocery bag.  
  
It only took one look at Jen’s face and Jared knew, he knew.  
  
“Lordy, Lordy…what’s Mayhem gotten himself into now?” Jensen grinned wickedly as he referred to Chad by the title he’d earned himself on message boards across America, quite obviously enjoying himself.  
  
“Dude. You can shut up anytime,” Jared answered, feeling like he owed Chad _some_ sense of loyalty, although his previous thoughts ran along the same vein as Jensen’s. “He’s having it rough.”  
  
Jensen snorted, and headed into the kitchen. Jared heard the sounds of bottles being slid into the refrigerator as he continued watching the news report. The longer it went on, the more people who came on to speak, he slid lower and lower into the cushions.  
  
“Christ, Chad,” he muttered, a small chuckle torn from his throat as Chad’s face appeared on the screen, dark glasses covering his eyes as he woefully explained to the press that since he wasn’t allowed to take his fiancée to her senior prom – _good God_ – he’d just buy her a car instead.  
  
Howling laughter followed the statement, and Jared knew that Jensen had turned on the TV in the kitchen. “Hell, can’t get into his fiancée’s prom,” he choked out, walking back into the living room with a beer in each hand.  
  
Jared felt his own lips twitching as he accepted the drink. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking sad.”  
  
“What do you see in that guy anyway?” Jensen wondered, settling into a wide armchair and spreading his legs apart. “He acts like his brain’s on a diet.”  
  
“He’s a good guy,” Jared murmured, heaving a sigh when the program switched to footage of Sophia Bush, Chad’s ex-wife, and her perspective on what was going on. “Oh, wonderful.”  
  
“I can’t believe he fucked _that_ up,” Jensen shook his head mournfully. “Sophia’s hot. And sweet as hell.”  
  
“You’ve only met her for ten minutes,” Jared pointed out, twisting the cap off of his beer and taking a swig.   
  
“Oh, well, maybe it’s her body that’s sweet as hell.” A grin flashed across Jen’s face, and he lifted his beer in a toast. “Not that you can appreciate it, but a bachelor like me?”  
  
Jared rolled his eyes. Jensen was apparently in a mood, all right. It happened every so often…particularly after strenuous work periods with little to no relaxation in between.   
  
Since they were about to come up on sweeps, everything and everyone was on edge and harried. But oddly enough, Jensen didn’t seem to be nervous that the show might not see a second season. He took it in stride, and Jared wondered if that came from having so many bit parts on so many different shows, or if it was just because Jensen was a cool son of a bitch.  
  
And yet…something was definitely on Jensen’s mind. It was subtle, but you could tell. For one, Jensen never fidgeted the way he was doing now; tapping his foot against the floor, crossing and uncrossing his legs. Jensen could lie out on a bed of nails and look like he was sleeping on an air mattress, but right now he appeared distinctly uncomfortable.  
  
“Dude, what’s up?” Jared asked, amused and exasperated when Jensen started playing a drum riff on his thigh. “Did someone spike your iced tea with Red Bull?”  
  
Jensen turned his head, pinning Jared with a look. “Come again?”  
  
Jared had long ago ceased to be intimidated by Jensen’s cynical expressions, so he just snorted and took another sip of beer. “Whatever. But just so you know, you’re spilling beer on your new carpet.”  
  
Jensen blinked, then jumped as he caught sight of the liquid steadily leaking out of his tilted bottle. “Shit,” he drawled, quickly righting the bottle and standing up to search himself for wet spots. He turned and bent over, and Jared blinked as his eyes were somehow drawn to the curve of Jensen’s ass tight against his jeans.  
  
He spun around when Jensen straightened, whistling innocently and shifting on the couch as the opening sequence for _Supernatural_ came on. He and Jensen made it a habit to watch the show together every week, officially so that they could draw off of each other’s performances, and unofficially so they could rag each other.  
  
Thanks to various trips to sites and message boards devoted to the show, a favorite topic of conversation was who was lusting after whom more that week. Jared usually won, because Jensen had a bad habit of checking out his ass whenever he thought the camera wasn’t on him.  
  
The first time he’d pointed it out, Jensen had shrugged and mentioned that if they didn’t put Sam in so many damn layers, he’d ogle his chest instead. Jared took it in stride, because he knew Jensen didn’t mean anything by it. And hell, he ogled Jen on occasion, too, especially when the writers made him lose his shirt. It was hard not to, because Jensen almost had too much presence when his clothes were _on_. Which is why they both knew the fans were justified, to a point, in their debates.  
  
Jared cocked his head as Dean appeared onscreen, pouty lips and leather jacket in place. He inclined his head in Jensen’s direction, eyes on the screen as his teeth flashed. “Man. You and Angelina Jolie, with those dick-sucking lips.”  
  
Jensen spit a stream of beer across the floor, and Jared glanced over in mild surprise. Jen’s cheeks were flushed and he didn’t quite meet Jared’s gaze as he mumbled something incoherent and excused himself to the kitchen.  
  
Jared’s brows drew together at the odd reaction, but he shrugged it off as his character joined Dean and the story of the week began.  
  
  
 

_______________________________________________________

  
  
  
  
 

**Lesson # 2: _Don’t Rub the Lamp Unless You’re Ready For the Genie._**

  
  
  
Several hours and a case of beer later, Jared woke up to find himself sprawled out on Jensen's bed with no idea how he’d gotten there. The last thing his drunken mind could remember was beating Jensen at an impromptu game of arm wrestling, and falling off of the couch in hysterics when Jen popped a woody in the middle of it.  
  
Jensen hadn’t seemed nearly embarrassed enough by it, and Jared had ribbed him that he needed to get laid, and soon. And then…Christ…had he actually offered to hook Jensen up with Chad?  
  
Jared snorted in the dark, lifting a hand to scratch his nose. He struggled for about ten seconds before he realized something was weighing down his entire right side. He turned his head, wincing as the room spun slightly, and then just stared.  
  
Jensen was passed out on the bed next to him, stripped of everything but a pair of undistinguishable boxers and socks. His back was pressed up firmly against Jared’s side, heat emanating in the area where their bodies met.  
  
Okay, so, it wasn’t completely abnormal for him to sleep over at Jensen’s. But to pass out together in their underwear…Jared closed his eyes and struggled to keep quiet when Jensen made a sound and shifted against him.  
  
The movement brought them closer together, and that’s when he realized…he was hard. And Jensen was arching against him like a lazy cat stretching in the sun.  
  
_Sonofabitch_ , he thought dazedly, _fucking hell_ , directly on its heels.   
  
He slung a leg across Jensen’s hips, stilling Jen’s actions. Tension thickened the air as both breathed unevenly in the darkness, and then Jensen moved again. It was subtle, uncertain, but it was _there_.  
  
Jared sucked in sharply, dick stiffening as Jensen’s hips worked against him. His leg clenched around Jen’s thigh, hand opening and closing on his pillow. “Jen…what the fuck?” he managed.  
  
Jen made a sound, a deliciously rough and throaty sound that had Jared fighting against the urge to grab him and fuck him senseless. Which was probably what Jensen wanted in the first place. Then, “Want me to stop?”  
  
Of course. Leave it up to _Jared_ , who was so goddamned hard that the idea of resisting was laughable. He gritted his teeth, struggling to remember all of the reasons why this was a bad, bad idea. Not the least of which was the fact that he had a girlfriend waiting for him back home.  
  
And then…Christ…Jensen’s hand reached around and found him. He palmed Jared’s cock through thin cotton, and Jared couldn’t muffle the pleasured response. He could practically _hear_ Jensen’s satisfied grin.  
  
Fuck Jen, anyway.  
  
“We shouldn’t…” he began, trailing off on a broken moan when Jensen freed him from his boxers without hesitation. “Aw, goddamn _hell_ , Jen!”  
  
When Jensen spoke, there was a definite smirk in his tone. “Your Texas is showing, Jared.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Jared slurred, pushing his hips against Jensen’s fingers.   
  
He sat up so suddenly that he nearly fell off of the bed, and had Jen pinned in under three seconds. They lay there, Jensen’s back plastered to his front, both panting in the dark. Jared found Jen’s hands and covered them with his own, dragging them up onto the pillow.  
  
“This what you want?” he demanded, almost angrily, shoving his hips against Jensen’s ass. When Jensen only groaned in response, Jared leaned forward and hissed in his ear, “Oh, no you don’t. Fuck that, you’re gonna say it.”  
  
If there was one quality that Jensen shared with Dean above all else, it was the character’s damn stubbornness. Jared couldn’t count the number of times he’d done something outrageous just to get a rise out of Jensen, and he’d simply lift an eyebrow and rattle off some inane dribble about the weather.  
  
_“Looks like rain later.”_  
  
But now…  
  
Jen twisted his neck to meet Jared’s gaze, and the moonlight caught the hint of an excited flush on his cheeks. Green eyes were heavy-lidded and black with lust, and Jared’s stomach tightened.  
  
“Yeah, man, do it.”  
  
That plea, thick and rich, nearly undid him. Jared growled low in his throat, and then he was attacking Jensen’s jaw with his lips. Teeth. Tongue tracing the faint shadow of stubble as Jensen gasped and bucked against him.  
  
They grappled, Jensen hooking an arm around Jared’s neck to force him closer. Jared jerked Jen’s head back and _fuckingfinally_ found Jen’s smart-ass mouth. His teeth sank into his lower lip, and Jensen’s surprised grunt immediately melted into a harsh moan.   
  
This lasted a good two minutes, with intermittences of oaths and nonsensical words that neither understood. Or cared to understand. Right now it was all about getting off, and Jared was pretty fucking good at that, if he said so himself.  
  
He tore his mouth away, lurching up to his knees as Jensen sprawled half-sideways on the bed. His mouth curved slightly, so goddamn cocky, and desperation bubbled up inside of Jared. The need to wipe that freaking smirk right off of Jensen’s too-hot-for-his-own-damn-good face.  
  
He held Jensen’s gaze, hooking both thumbs in the waistband of his underwear. Jensen met his eyes steadily, not even flinching when Jared tilted his hips and yanked the flimsy boxers down. Jen’s eyes dropped, and then… _then_ , Jared got the reaction he’d been waiting for.  
  
If possible, his dick grew even harder beneath Jensen’s watchful gaze.  
  
“Well, at least you’re proportional,” Jen finally muttered, his expression torn between admiration and panic. His eyes returned to Jared’s, and he flashed a grin. Considering Jensen made a habit of pointing out how freakishly large Jared was all the damn time, Jared took that as high praise indeed.   
  
Without bothering to reply, he reached a hand out and pushed Jensen onto his back. “You’re gonna get it,” he promised, voice shaking with analogous frustration and desire. “Been messing with me all this time, haven’t you?”  
  
Low laughter rumbled out of Jensen, and he stretched a little too lazily for Jared’s liking. The coy action sent a jolt down Jared’s spine, and his lips pressed into a flat line as Jensen said, “Whatever, dude.”  
  
“Damn it, Jensen…”  
  
“Get with the program, Padalecki,” Jen interrupted, the corner of his mouth lifting in challenge. “Time to paint your butt white and run with the antelope.”  
  
Jared blinked at the slow drawl, and then let out a bark of laughter. “Now whose Texas is showing?” he grumbled, feeling drunk and stupid on Jensen Ackles. Moving slowly, he reached down and cupped himself, letting his thumb trail over the head of his cock, once. Twice.  
  
Jensen sucked in a breath. Jared grinned, evilly, and that’s all it took. Jensen’s shorts were practically ripped from his body, landing in a ragged heap on the other side of the room as Jared flipped him over and straddled the back of his thighs.   
  
He placed both hands at the small of Jensen’s back and just… _pressed_. Jensen let out a little moan and twisted beneath him. “Oh, yeah.”  
  
“You taught me that,” Jared had to grin. “Remind me why you aren’t a physical therapist again?” It was said in a mocking tone, because Jared loved ribbing Jensen about his various careers and activities _before_ the acting bug had bitten. Like cheerleading, for chrissake.  
  
“Because actors are so much prettier. And easier.” The pillow muffled Jensen’s voice, but Jared easily read the sarcasm coloring it. “Hey, Jare?”  
  
“Mmm?” Jared stared down at the muscular lines of Jen’s back, his mind a fuzzy mélange of why’s and how’s. He trailed a blunt fingertip along Jen’s spine, avidly cataloguing the shivery response. His other hand continued to work his cock, tongue caught between his teeth.  
  
“I’m not getting any younger here.”  
  
Jared’s head snapped up at Jensen’s shaky words, and the space between his brows disappeared. Suddenly, all sense of playfulness was gone and the moment was all too real.   
  
He was about to fuck his co-star.  
  
He was about to fuck _Jensen._   
  
He wasn’t sure he was nearly drunk enough for this shit.  
  
Consequences began to play out in his mind at warp speed; breaking Sandy’s heart, the look on Eric’s and the rest of the crew’s faces if they ever found out, Mike Rosenbaum’s smarmy, shit-eating grin. _Well, man, at least the fangirls’ll be happy._  
  
And then there was Jensen himself.  
  
The truth was, no matter how close he and Jen were, Jared had absofuckinglutely _no_ clue what was going to happen the next day. He’d been around for a few of Jensen’s past relationships, but the guy was so close-mouthed about personal shit like that. All Jared knew was that one day the chick was there, the next she wasn’t.  
  
Of course, sometimes the chick was a dude, and then neither of them ever mentioned it again.  
  
Was he really willing to risk a solid friendship for a night of sex? Sex he wasn’t even sure he really wanted?  
  
Okay, so he was a goddamn liar. At that particular moment, Jared wanted _nothing_ more than to ride Jen’s ass until the cocky fucker screamed his name and clawed the sheets apart. But tonight and tomorrow morning were two horses of a different color.  
  
His mama had always said if you can’t say it, you ain’t ready to do it. Well, Jared had no problem saying it, but he still didn’t think his mama would approve. He could already imagine the conversation taking place…  
  
_“Yeah, Mama, this is Jensen. You know, that guy who plays my big brother on TV? Now, you don’t mind if we get naked on occasion and rastle around?”_  
  
Jesus H.  
  
The awkward silence was broken by Jensen, who shifted beneath him and let out something of a weary sigh. “Look, Jared, its cool. We can just forget it.”  
  
Relief warred with disappointment, and Jared froze. He hadn’t missed the hollow sound in Jen’s voice, and it made him feel guilty for everything he’d just thought about over the last several moments.  
  
After all, Jared wasn’t the only one putting himself out there to be tortured later on.  
  
Jensen moved as if to slip out from under him, and Jared found his thighs tightening perversely around Jensen’s stomach. “No,” he mumbled, then in a louder voice, “ _No._ ”  
  
“Jared—”  
  
“Shut up,” Jared murmured, lowering his head. He hesitated a fraction of a second, then let his mouth brush against the back of Jen’s neck. Jensen let out a hissing sound of surprise, muscles twitching.  
  
“I’ll be damned if you get me all worked up and then don’t follow through,” Jared continued, no real heat in his voice as his lips skimmed lower. “Pretty boy cock-tease.”  
  
“Fuck,” was the only thing Jen could manage as Jared nuzzled his lower back. His hands curled into fists, gathering up portions of the sheets with them. A thrill shot down Jared’s spine.  
  
“Soon,” he promised, not even recognizing the dark need woven through his own voice. He rested more of his weight on top of Jensen, relishing the sense of control. He could handle this, no problem. As long as he stayed in. Control.  
  
“Christ, Jared…let me…” Jen was stretching now, letting out soft sounds of frustration as he struggled to throw Jared off of him. He twisted his head around, lips shiny as if he’d just licked them. “Let me suck your cock.” The words were barely above a whisper, yet packed more punch than a Mike Tyson uppercut.  
  
Jared found himself nodding slowly, rising up to allow Jensen to turn over, then wet heat covered the head of his dick. His neck strained, an odd sort of strangled noise escaped his throat, and his fingers filled with short dirty blonde hair.  
  
Jensen’s hands were on his hips, motioning him closer, deeper, and Jared blinked before looking down to find Jensen taking him in his mouth. _Sweet Jesus_ , he thought, eyes stinging with sweat.   
  
Jensen stared back at him through long lashes, looking like a fucking cover boy for gay porn as his cheeks hollowed in and out. Wet sounds of encouragement filled the air; Jared’s fingers found the headboard and gripped so tightly his knuckles whitened.   
  
He couldn’t look away.  
  
“Jensen,” his voice breaking on a groan, “So fuckin’ good…” He ground his teeth, struggling not to blow his wad then and there. His cock in Jensen’s able mouth, he was vulnerable enough to admit, “I’m…nervous.”  
  
Jensen paused, then released all but the head of Jared’s cock from his mouth. His tongue swirled along the rim, then he murmured, “I’m not gonna judge you, man.”  
  
Jared pulled back, breathing rough and heavy. Somewhere between the making out and Jensen sucking him off, the alcohol had worn off and left him well-aware of the situation, and yet, he felt unsteady. Groggy.  
  
Apparently giving up on a reply, Jen opened his mouth again, but Jared cut him off by bending his head and taking Jensen’s flat nipple into his mouth. Jen jumped, a low, keening sound coming from his lips as Jared sucked.  
  
“ _Godyes_ ,” Jen muttered, bucking his hips, lids falling closed. “Fuck…hurry…”  
  
Jared stared up at him, wondering just how long he’d been waiting for this moment. Maybe not consciously, but there was no denying the fact anymore. Having Jensen Ackles underneath him, begging, had become Priority Number One a long time ago.  
  
“Do it, do it, do it,” Jensen was croaking, flushed and eager. “Jared, goddamn…” He was lifting his hips, pressing his stomach against Jared’s. Their cocks rubbing together was one of the most sublime feelings in Jared’s twenty-three years of living, and he bit back a trembling moan before pushing up, bracing himself on his hands.  
  
His head hung between his shoulders, mouth within Jensen’s reach. Jen reached a hand up, caught him around the neck and dragged him the remaining few inches forward, crashing their lips together.   
  
Jared tasted blood in his mouth, but could hardly care when Jensen’s fingers snuck between their bodies to play with his balls. He groaned into his friend’s mouth, humping him furiously as Jensen chuckled.  
  
“Whoa, slow down cowboy,” Jen murmured in a silky voice. “We got all night.”  
  
“What? I thought you wanted me to hurry up.”  
  
“Yeah, well, now _I’m_ nervous.” But the statement was accompanied by a mischievous smile, and Jared barely refrained from rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. Instead, he managed to get Jensen back on his stomach, face buried in the pillow and hips lifted.  
  
This was it. Point of no return.  
  
He could blame it on beer tomorrow, and maybe even get away with it, but he’d forever know the truth.  
  
“I’m clean, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  
  
Jared nearly choked at that. He hadn’t even been thinking of that possiblity, which proved just how much this situation was fucking him up. Not that Jensen was a player by any definition of the word, but he definitely slept around more often than Jared did.  
  
“There’s condoms and lube in the nightstand.”  
  
Jared reached over dumbly, finding the items with ease, then looking back at Jensen. Sprawled out, waiting for him. Christ Jesus.  
  
He tugged on a condom, added the slick lubricant, all the while desperation threatened to consume him. Poised at Jensen’s entrance, he took a deep breath, trying not to plunge forward and kill them both. He had to get inside Jensen, and soon—  
  
“Jared, do me a favor.”  
  
Jared froze, his mind beyond rational thinking. He prayed Jensen just wanted an extra pillow, and not something that would require actual _thought_ on his part. “Um, yeah?”  
  
“Whatever you do, don’t call me Dean.”  
  
His voice sounded so dreamy, yet serious, and Jared couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, the action slipping him inside of Jensen with a surprise thrust. They both stilled, then the top of Jared’s head came off.  
  
“Christ, Jen, you’re tighter’n hell,” he moaned, vowels elongated and thick.  
  
“Such sweet…talk,” Jensen managed, and Jared could tell he was gritting his teeth. “Fuuuuck, this is worse than I thought it’d be.”  
  
“What? What?” Jared was fighting to think about something, anything, other than the feel of Jensen hot and tight around his dick. Something clicked, and his eyes flew open. “Are you telling me you’ve never done this before?”  
  
“Not exactly,” Jen panted beneath him, fidgeting and squirming on the sheets. “I mean, I have, I just haven’t…oh, Christ.”  
  
High on sexual euphoria or not, Jared didn’t need a further explanation. Jensen Ackles was in pain, because Jensen Ackles had never been a bottom before.   
  
Before _Jared_.  
  
“Aw, man,” Jared whined through his teeth, the revelation sending whatever remaining blood left in his brain directly to his groin. “I can’t…”  
  
He wanted to take it slow, maybe even stop. Regardless of how good it felt, he wouldn’t hurt Jensen for anything. But Jensen’s hand reached back and curved around his ass, and his voice demanded, “Keep going.”  
  
Short, succinct. And so fucking hot that Jared gave up the inner argument with himself and plunged deeper. They both cried out in unison, expelling curses and breaths ragged with varying sensations.  
  
Jared couldn’t figure out where to put his hands. They pressed into Jen’s broad shoulders, practically forcing the other man down, and then moved to his sides. From there, his fingers dug into Jen’s hips.  
  
Jensen was no longer twitching in pain, but thrashing beneath Jared like one of the cock-hungry whores you glimpsed on late-night cable. It urged Jared on, hips pumping faster, faster, faster…  
  
His foot slipped on the slick sheets, and he threw an arm across Jensen’s chest as they half-rolled onto their sides. Jensen grunted, pushing back against him and muttering things like, “Come on, yeah, come on…”  
  
He glanced down to see Jensen jerking himself off in time with his thrusts, and with a hoarse sound he knocked Jen’s hand away, his own palm closing over the hot flesh and pumping it.  
  
Jensen arched, coming hard in Jared’s hand, and Jared bared his teeth, muscles tightening. When he came, he yelled so loudly that he knew Jen’s neighbors would be talking about it for weeks, and Jensen would probably crack a joke about the rafters shaking. He’d always been teased about it, but this…this was unreal.  
  
Long moments punctuated by silence and heavy breathing passed before Jared finally rolled completely off of Jensen, throwing an arm over his eyes as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.  
  
He heard the faint sound of drawers opening and closing, and peeked through his arm to find Jensen’s naked back facing him, blue smoke billowing toward the ceiling. Jensen turned slightly, eyes catching Jared’s as he puffed on a thin cigarette.  
  
“Well,” he drawled softly, tapping the cig over an ash tray.   
  
Jared lowered his eyes to stare at the burning end rather than meet Jensen’s questioning gaze. Recriminations were quickly piling high, and this time he didn’t have the edge of desire to make things foggy. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out sounding brittle and coarse. “I should go…early call tomorrow and all.”  
  
Jensen didn’t blink, just nodded and took another long drag. When he finally answered, he just lifted a shoulder and murmured, “Could always spend the night.” _Like you have a million times before,_ was the unspoken continuation.   
  
Jared flinched, looking away and out the window where the Vancouver night sky hung low and heavy. Of course, he knew he could stay the night at Jen’s. And before, he would have. But things had just progressed too fast and too far for Jared’s comfort…and he knew what a dick that made him.  
  
Better to get home and spend the night staring at the ceiling, preparing himself for the hell tomorrow would be. Trying not to relive every aching moment inside of Jensen…  
  
“Well, whatever you want,” Jensen added easily, lounging back against the pillows like what had just occurred was nothing out of the ordinary. Like they’d simply whiled away the hours playing PSP instead of fucking and sucking each other raw.  
  
Jared’s jaw ticced, and he found himself wanting to strangle Jensen. Make him acknowledge that fifteen minutes ago he’d been on his hands and knees begging for more of _Jared’s_ cock. Goddamn, he was losing his mind.  
  
Jared sat up, feeling frustrated and angry for no one reason he could pinpoint. It wasn’t like he expected Jensen to get all righteously indignant and beg him to stay. They weren’t _girls_ for chrissake. But he’d assumed there’d be at least a _mention_ …  
  
He yanked his shirt over his head, jerked his underwear and jeans up his hips, all the while watching Jensen from beneath his lashes. His friend was surfing late-night TV, pausing on a rerun of Conan O‘Brien. Jared shook the contrary thoughts from his head and offered a thin smile. “Right, well, see ya.”  
  
“Later, man.” Jensen saluted him absently, eyes riveted on the television as Jared fumed at the doorway. Just as he turned to leave, Jensen threw out, “Oh, by the way…”  
  
Jared spun around so quickly he nearly tripped. “What?”  
  
“Don’t forget we’re shooting on location tomorrow,” Jen mumbled, gaze still following Conan and guest’s onscreen antics. “Don’t go getting lost at the studio again.”  
  
Jared could feel himself blushing, darkly. “One freaking time and they never let you forget it,” he grumbled, ignoring Jensen’s chuckles as he turned and left the apartment.  
  
 

__________________________________________________________

  
  
  
  
  
 

**Lesson # 3: _Careful, We Don’t Want to Learn From This._**

  
  
  
“I bet you’re missing my ass now, huh?”  
  
Jared made a face, then apologized to the harried makeup girl who rushed to fill in the places where the powder creased. “Yeah, right,” he answered into his hands-free, sinking back into the chair and staring at someplace just above his own image in the mirror. “Like a pimple on my ass.”  
  
“You’re sick,” Chad complained, then there was a beat of silence. “Well, I miss you, fucker. Wilmington got old about two years ago.”  
  
“Mmm…maybe you should’ve kept it in your pants, then Sophia wouldn’t be making your life a living hell right now,” Jared suggested, only partly kidding. God only knew, he loved Chad. But the guy was a fucking _moron_. “And how’s your little Lolita doing? Sure sucks that I couldn’t get a picture of you in your tuxedo, man.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Chad sighed, and Jared could practically imagine his best friend flipping him off. He bit back a a grin when Chad added, “Not so good. I think I might’ve made a mistake.”  
  
“With women? You?” Jared clucked his tongue. “Never.”  
  
“Why are we friends again?”  
  
“Because I kicked your ass at pool, and you’ve just been riding my coattails ever since.”  
  
“Har, har.”  
  
Jared’s smile faded a little when he caught sight of Jensen entering the trailer, already in costume as he tugged at the sleeves of Dean’s signature leather jacket. Jen paused to smile at one of the makeup girls, and his eyes fleetingly passed over Jared.   
  
Jared sucked in a breath, looking away and feeling like an idiot as Chad continued to whine about something in his ear.  
  
“Dude, are you even fucking listening? Do I have to start paying you for sessions or some shit, because lemme tell ya…between my therapist and the damn pre-marital counselor Kenzie’s mom is insisting on, I’m—”  
  
“Hey, Chad,” Jared interrupted, having heard nothing of his friend’s previous ramble. His eyes followed Jensen as he exited the makeup trailer. “You and James.”  
  
“James,” Chad echoed, easily going with the change in topic. “What about him?”  
  
“You two get along, right?”  
  
Chad’s confusion was evident by the slow way he sounded out his words. “Sure, great.”  
  
Jared’s pulse was racing. Despite his self-assurances otherwise, he hadn’t forgotten the night before, even if Jensen for all intents and purposes _had_. It was normal for them to be all up in each other’s business before every scene, but so far Jared had only seen Jen once that morning.  
  
Of course, he’d gotten to the set late, and had driven himself as opposed to catching a ride with Jen, but still. It was weird. And he knew damn well why.  
  
“You two ever fight about anything?” he asked of Chad, wondering how he could get the information he really wanted without clueing his friend in to the fact that he was mooning and brooding over his male co-star. For chris _sake_.  
  
“Hell yes,” Chad answered with a laugh. “If we aren’t kicking each other’s ass on a regular basis, then something’s seriously wrong. “  
  
Jared blinked. “Really?” He suddenly wondered why he’d never bothered to ask Chad about his “other life” in Wilmington. Sure, they _talked_ about it, same way they talked about Jared’s life in Vancouver, but it was mostly just bullshitting and vague points of interest.  
  
Jared had met Chad’s cast members a few times at various WB promotional events, and they’d all seemed great, but it had never occurred to him that he didn’t really know how _Chad_ felt about them. Except for Sophia, of course, which was a completely different ball of wax.  
  
“Yeah, man,” Chad continued, oblivious to the inner-monologue going on in Jared’s head. “We like to give each other crap. He’s four years younger, you know.”   
  
Jared rolled his eyes at the friendly reminder of the same age-difference between him and Jensen. “Yeah, well it doesn’t count when you act like you’re fourteen,” he returned.  
  
“Bite me. Anyway, James’s a cool kid. Why you ask? You and Jensen break up?”  
  
Heat flushed his cheeks, and before he could stop, he blurted out, “What?! No!”  
  
“Jesus, chill,” Chad laughed, a little surprise coloring his tone. “I figured as much. You two are joined at the hip. Bet you’ve never even raised your voices at each other, have you? Pussies.”  
  
_Well, now I dunno,_ Jared mulled silently. _Does ‘God, yes, fuck me harder’ count?_.   
  
Outwardly, he just gave a sickly grin and replied, “Suck it, Murray.”  
  
“I’ll leave that to Jenny,” Chad snorted. Then, “Tell me, when can we expect the happy news in the papers?”  
  
“Screw you,” Jared laughed, but his knuckles were white against his knee. “Don’t you have a high school prom to get kicked out of?”  
  
His answer was a particularly nasty curse, followed by a dial tone. Jared yanked the headset from his ears and tossed it onto a nearby table in disgust. “Well, that accomplished absolutely _nothing_ ,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead as techs milled around the trailer noisily.  
  


	2. Chapter 2 - Lessons 4-6

**Title:** 6 Lessons to Live By (As Told By Jared Padalecki)  
 **Author:** [ ](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/profile)[**keepaofthecheez**](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/)  
 **Characters:** JA/JP, J2, Padackles (Best. Word. EVER.)  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** 11, 605  
 **Disclaimer:** Pshaw…yeah, I own them! And fluffy pink donkeys dance on my ceiling at five in the afternoon, singing “I Touch Myself”.  
 **Summary:** Oohhh…this is just porn. Probably. With a sprinkling of plot. Okay, really the plot is porn.  
 **Notes:** God, this fandom has eaten my brain. First incest, now RPS? *dies*  
Thanks to my beta [ ](http://rachel-shanz.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_shanz**](http://rachel-shanz.livejournal.com/)  
  
  
 

[ Lessons 1-3](http://fics-by-lindsay.livejournal.com/6320.html#cutid1)

  
  
  
  
  
 

**Lesson # 4: _If You Were Waiting For the Opportune Moment, That Was It._**

  
  
  
“Sam, Sam, Sam…what’re you going for here? What’s your motivation?”  
  
Jensen snorted into his hand, feigning an innocent expression when Jared’s head whipped around to pin him with an accusing glare. He shrugged, and Jared returned his attention to the director of the week.  
  
“My motivation,” he mumbled, abstaining from eye rolling to the heavens. God save him from theater-savvy directors who needed to know his ‘motivations’. He fixed an easy smile on his face, the one that typically got him out of everything but murder, and only because he’d yet to try that. “Sam pretty much wants to kick Dean’s ass.”  
  
Jensen glanced at him oddly, and Jared belatedly realized that he’d spat the words out a little harsher than he’d intended. Goddamn, but this entire deal was getting to him.   
  
It wasn’t so much that Jensen was acting different, because he wasn’t. Not really. He still joked and snarked with Jared in between takes, and anyone who didn’t know better wouldn’t have noticed that he’d subtly kept from touching Jared as much as he usually did. After all, _Jared_ was the touchy-feely guy, not Jensen. It was nothing out of the ordinary.  
  
Except it _was_. And Jared could feel it every time he and Jen’s eyes met, whether it was for a Sam and Dean interaction, or over a pot of coffee at the catering station. The way it took just a beat too long for that familiar grin to light his face, and even longer for it to reach his eyes. That tiny sliver of an edge coating his voice.  
  
After all, Jared had seen it before. Jensen was treating him like he treated all of his regrettable one night stands. Keeping things light and easy, with clear ‘stay away’ vibes. At first, Jared had been relieved.  
  
Now he was just pissed.   
  
“But _why_?” the guest director prodded, chomping on a wad of gum, hands burrowed inside of a light-weight summer coat.   
  
“Because Dean’s a dick,” Jared sighed, prompting a round of laughter from nearby crew. He flashed them all a grin, catching sight of the fleeting frown creasing Jen’s expression. “And a total control freak.”  
  
“Oh, that’s rich,” Jensen drawled. “Sam’s the one who gets his panties in a bunch every damn week.”  
  
Jared blew a sarcastic kiss in Jensen’s direction, shuffling his feet on the ground as the chilly Canadian air ruffled his hair. “Can’t I just pound him and call the scene?”  
  
“’Fraid not,” the director sighed, motioning for one of the cameramen to come closer. “Listen up, Jared. You’re what sells this scene. Not Jensen. Not Jeffrey. _You_. If we don’t believe what you’re feeling, we won’t believe what’s happening.”  
  
Jared hunched his shoulders, embarrassed to have been called out like that in front of his cast and crew. He’d never received anything but professional praise while working on _Supernatural_ , and now he’d messed around with Jensen one time and look where it got him.  
  
He shot Jen a glare from beneath his lashes and retorted, “Roll the damn camera.”  
  
He caught Jeff eyeing him suspiciously and cursed under his breath as they prepared to run the scene again. Jared climbed behind the wheel of Impala # 3, listening to the rustle of Jensen’s jacket as he slipped inside next to him. Neither looked at the other.  
  
At the prompt, Jared clenched his fingers around the wheel and stepped on the gas, shooting the Chevy down the old dirt road they were using to shoot the scene. He didn’t have to feign the hard line to his jaw, the crease between his brows.  
  
He and Jensen ran through their lines, until Jen flubbed one and they had to turn around and start again. Then Jared messed up.  
  
“Take five!” the director yelled, yanking off his headset and motioning toward the camera crew. “Run that back and let me see…”  
  
Inside the Impala, it was eerily quiet as late afternoon melted into evening. The sky had gone dark hours ago, and Jared tilted the seat back to stare up and out of the window at what stars were visible through the thick fog.  
  
“Looks like it’ll rain tonight,” Jensen murmured, and Jared jumped. When he looked over he found Jen watching him with unreadable eyes. “Jared, what the hell’s the matter with you?”  
  
His mouth fell open, and he could only stare for several long seconds. Then, checking the sound equipment, he turned in his chair to face Jensen and hissed, “What’s wrong with _me?_ You’re fucking joking, right?”  
  
Jensen lifted a brow, making a ‘please, continue’ gesture with one hand. Jared saw red.  
  
“Last night,” he ground out, sinking into the seat as heat exploded across his features. At Jensen’s blank expression he barked out a hysterical laugh. “Don’t even fucking do it, Jen. Man…we fucked around, and now everything’s just… _fucked_.”  
  
“Like your vocabulary,” Jensen muttered.  
  
Jared clenched his jaw, trying to keep from launching himself across the vehicle and killing Jensen on the spot. God, this was nothing like him. He was a happy guy, damn it! He didn’t sulk, he didn’t _brood_.  
  
“We just fooled around, Jared,” Jensen continued coolly as he sat back and stretched his legs out. “Nothing to get worked up over, all right? Let’s just do the damn scene and then get out of here.”  
  
Jared couldn’t believe his ears. “Oh, you’ve _gotta_ be shittin’ me.”  
  
“What do you want me to say?” For the first time, a hint of anger crossed Jensen’s features. “That it was the greatest sex of my life? Let’s be life-partners and move to Vermont? We had a good time, that’s all.”  
  
“I have a girlfriend,” Jared pointed out inanely. His heart was thundering in his ears. “I love her.”  
  
“I know you do,” Jen responded, a thread of exhaustion in his voice. “Which is why I’m saying, let’s just forget about it. We were both hopped up on alcohol and…whatever…no harm, no foul. Right?”  
  
“Right,” Jared echoed dully, because really, what else could he say? That he’d spent a sleepless night fantasizing over every goddamn ridge on Jensen’s body? That he was half-hard just being _near_ him now, and that it was taking practically every ounce of his self-control to keep from tackling him into the backseat and shoving himself—  
  
A sudden knock on the window broke the tense silence, and both looked up to find Jeff grinning at them. Jared rolled down the window, staring at his TV dad and real life buddy expectantly.  
  
“You kids ready to roll?”  
  
“Yeah, let’s get this shit over with,” Jared muttered, slumping into the seat with a shadow coloring his expression.  
  
He didn’t bother to check for Jen’s reaction.  
  
 

______________________________________________________

  
  
  
  
 

**Lesson # 5: _Never Do Anything You Wouldn’t Want to Explain to the Paramedics._**

  
  
  
  
  
  
“A fuckin’ tool’s what he is,” Jared slurred, dark glare positioned on Jensen as his friend shot darts across the bar with Mike. “Tell me sum’in, man...” He turned his head and regarded Clark Kent – no, Tom Welling - through glassy eyes. “You _ever_ seen such a fucking tool?”  
  
Tom shook his head, sliding his hand toward the half-empty bottle of beer in front of Jared. “That’s it. You’re cut off.”  
  
“Screw you,” Jared muttered, jerking the mug away and downing it in a single gulp. His head was pounding, his skin was crawling, and the bar felt like it was a thousand degrees inside. “What’re they doing here, anyway? I thought you and _Rosenbum_ were pulling each other’s hair this week.”  
  
“Only place in town that serves decent tap and’s relatively unknown to the college circuit.”  
  
“Yeah, and how long’s _that_ gonna last when they’re in here doing that shit?” Jared gestured over as raucous laughter spilled from across the room. His brows lowered when Mike slung an arm around Jen’s shoulders, pressing their cheeks together and whispering something with a stupid grin on his face. Jen laughed in response, and Jared’s fingers gripped the glass tighter.  
  
“Dude, you’re messed up.” There was a faint hint of sympathy in Tom’s tone, but Jared was too busy worrying about getting drunk to worry about what his friend might be thinking.   
  
Only Tom would not shut. The fuck. Up.  
  
“Why don’t you just talk to him? This is pretty pathetic.”  
  
“Hmph,” was all Jared could think to say, then reached over and downed the rest of Tom’s drink, as well. Only it was something with gin, and it fucking _burned_ going down.  
  
“Fuck,” Jared gasped, eyes stinging with tears as he pounded his chest. “Like goddamn cologne.”  
  
“An acquired taste,” Tom agreed, motioning a nearby waitress for another drink while silently communicating that Jared be left alone. She nodded briskly, then headed back to the bar.  
  
“This sucks,” Jared complained, lowering his forehead and rolling it across the gritty table. “I’m so bored, man.”  
  
“You’re such a great date, too,” Tom replied sarcastically. “And to think, I gave up a night of marital bliss for this shit.”  
  
“Eh, it’s all downhill after the first year anyway.”  
  
“Seriously, what the hell’s gotten into you?” Tom sighed, really sounding concerned now. “Usually you’re blowing sunshine up everyone’s ass, but lately you’re just moping around and acting like someone killed your dogs. This can’t just be over your fight with Jen.”  
  
The fuck it couldn’t.  
  
It’d been three weeks since the infamous ‘incident’, and in that time things had gone from cool to downright frosty between the two co-stars. Fortunately, it seemed to add an extra layer of tension to their characters that the network loved, but not-so-fortunately, it just made Jared depressed.  
  
He missed Jensen, the asshole. Missed talking to him, joking with him, seeing him outside of work. Now the only times they ever ran into each other on their off-days was during group outings, and then Jen usually had Rosenbaum hanging off of his shirtsleeve like a goddamned bald bodyguard.  
  
His eyes narrowed as Mike shot a look in their direction, then said something that had Jensen’s mouth flattening. Sweat began to pool at Jared’s temples, and he absently muttered, “Sandy and I broke up.”  
  
“What? When?” Tom seemed surprised, and Jared couldn’t blame him. He’d yet to mention anything about the end of his longest relationship to date, to anyone. Once upon a time, Jensen would’ve been the first person he told. But it was hard to tell your friend that you’d broken up with a girl over _him_.  
  
Not that Sandy really had any idea that it was about Jensen. She’d assumed, rightfully so, that there was someone else in the picture, and it’d been hard enough as it was without rubbing it in her face that she just wasn’t what he wanted…on any level. God help him.  
  
At least it was done, with minimal damage to either side.   
  
Jared tugged at his collar uncomfortably. “It hot in here to you?” When Tom merely looked at him, he groped for another drink, the sound of Jensen’s husky laughter grating on his nerves. “Last week,” he managed, remembering that Tom had asked him a question. “Just wasn’t working, you know?”   
  
“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Tom replied with genuine empathy. “That sucks.”  
  
“What sucks?” Mike’s gleeful voice resonated, and Jared glanced up to find the pair headed toward them.   
  
“This song,” he mumbled, catching the faint strains of some unidentifiable girl band. “Gotta piss.”  
  
“Thar she blows!” Mike drawled, making a show out of moving out of Jared’s way as he shot up from his seat. “Second door on the right, straight on ‘til morning!”  
  
Jared flipped him off, avoiding looking at Jensen as he shoved away from the table toward the restrooms in the back. His legs were shaking, and his stomach felt like a bubbling pool of nausea.   
  
He took one look in the mirror and nearly cracked up. Christ, if his stylist could see him now. Bloodshot eyes complete with dark circles, rumpled hair that’d seen better days shoved up inside a toboggan. He looked like the poster boy for Drunken Loser.  
  
He splashed cold water on his face, leaning forward to further study himself when the door slapped shut again behind him. He didn’t bother to look. He could _feel_ that it was Jensen.  
  
“Tom wanted to let you know Jamie called. He had to get back.”  
  
Jared grabbed a paper towel, wiping his face. “Great. Thanks.” He was careful to keep his tone carefully modulated, erasing every hint of “Oh, God, _please_ , Jen” from his expression.  
  
Jensen was quiet for so long that Jared assumed he must have left, therefore he nearly jumped out of his skin when Jensen’s voice rang out again.  
  
“You need a ride?”  
  
Yeah, right. Like he was going to take a charity offer from some pissed-off co-worker. “No, I got…” he trailed off, realizing Tom had been the one to pick him up. Judging by Jensen’s expression, he was well-aware of that fact, too. “Well, hell.”  
  
“Come on.”  
  
“No way, man,” Jared evaded Jensen’s grasp, knees nearly buckling as his fingers gripped the countertop. Suddenly everything seemed too bright and fuzzy, and he blinked as two Jensen’s stood staring at him. He let out a thick laugh. “Holy Hell…just what I fucking need.”  
  
“Jared!” Concern etched into Jen’s voice. “You all right?”  
  
“Course I’m…fuckin’ aw…right,” Jared managed, speech dissolving into a blur of rounded consonants and vowels. He barely felt it when his legs finally gave out beneath him, but he sure as hell felt it when he cracked his head on the side of the trash bin.  
  
As if from far away he heard Jensen curse, then strong arms were lifting him off of cold tile, cradling him almost too gently as a deep voice spoke hurriedly to someone just outside Jared’s realm of comprehension.  
  
He passed out two times on the way to the hospital.  
  
The first time, he opened his eyes and saw some random white guy with a goatee peering down at him. Flashing lights and a siren in the distance.  
  
The second time, Jen was there. His green eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with emotions that hurt Jared’s brain to put a name to.  
  
“Hey,” he said softly, “scared me, Jare.”  
  
“So damn pretty,” Jared slurred, drugs pumping pleasantly through his system. “Why are you so fucking pretty?”  
  
A soft snort came from somewhere to his left, and Jared craned his neck to find Goatee Guy scribbling across a thick pad of paper. He caught Jared’s eye and said, “You’re lucky your friend got you here when he did. Nobody ever takes the flu seriously, and you caught a nasty case of it.”  
  
Ah, hell. That explained the increasingly crappy feelings he’d been suffering from over the course of the past week. He should have guessed vitamin popping didn’t do a damn thing against freaking Canadian weather.  
  
“When can he get out of here?” Jensen asked, shifting to address the doctor. His side brushed against Jared’s hand, and Jared’s fingers twitched in response as he half paid attention to whatever Jen was saying. “We’re in the middle of filming…sweeps…really important…”  
  
“I want to fuck you again, Jensen.”  
  
The room fell dead silent, then Jensen let out a strangled laugh that fell flat. “He’s…he’s pretty out of it, huh?”  
  
The doctor lifted a brow, but nodded. “He developed a mild bacterial infection, and combined with the medication we gave him for the fever—”  
  
“Jen,” Jared said again, feeling like he was floating on a cloud somewhere no one could bother them. “Did you hear me?”  
  
“Later, damn it.” Jensen’s voice shook, or maybe it was Jared’s imagination. Either way, he shrugged and closed his eyes again as the doctor continued speaking.  
  
When he woke up again, everything was dark. Jared groaned out as the pain of a thousand needles seemed to stab him all at once, and he started to lift his head to take in his surroundings when a hand closed around his wrist, a sleepy voice saying, “Whassit? Jared?”  
  
Jensen’s face appeared over him then, a shadow of beard shading his jaw, eyes heavy, hair disheveled.   
  
Jared could only stare. “Jensen?”  
  
Jensen reached over and flipped on a light, illuminating the fact that Jared was back in his own apartment, laid up in bed. Jensen was in a chair a few feet away, leaning over him with a look of concern masking exhausted features. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out rough and groggy when he answered, “I’m here, man. What do you need? Are you hungry? You should probably eat…I’ll go make something.”  
  
Jared watched him leave in confusion. Considering the temperature of their current relationship, Jensen Ackles was the last person Jared would’ve expected to find playing nursemaid for him. And yet, he had vague memories of Jensen riding with him to the hospital.  
  
Jensen arguing with the doctor to let him leave, because he _knew_ how much hospitals freaked Jared out.  
  
Jensen, apparently, bringing him home and staying up at his bedside for whatever Jared might need.  
  
What the hell was happening here, anyway?   
  
A sharp pain throbbed, and Jared winced, raising his hand to finger the bandage taped across his forehead. Friggin’ great. So not only had he passed out like a woman, twice, but he’d brained himself, as well.  
  
He had the fleeting question of whether or not he’d thrown up in front of Jensen, and immediately felt like an idiot for caring.  
  
“Yeah, so, it isn’t prime rib but after seeing what’s in the fridge…I didn’t think you’d notice,” Jensen called out a few minutes later, clambering up the stairs and appearing in Jared’s doorway. He held a plate in his hands, a sandwich cut into four equally precise portions resting on top of it.  
  
Jared had to snort. “Did you cut off my crusts, too?”  
  
“Shut up and eat.”  
  
Jared accepted the plate, eyeing the sandwich curiously. Bologna and cheese, with globs of mustard. He smirked, knowing what a concession that had to have been for a guy like Jensen. He took a bite, and his stomach growled noisily. “Oh, yeah.”  
  
Jensen had taken his seat again, watching Jared eat in happy silence. Then, “Maybe we should check your temperature.”  
  
Jared paused to swallow. “Considering the only thermometer I have around here is one used to stick up babies butts, I think I’ll pass.”  
  
Jensen blinked, and then made a face. “You know what, don’t even explain, okay?”  
  
Jared just grinned. Jen’s cell phone rang, and while he was on the line, Jared snuck glances at his friend from beneath his lashes. He still had so many questions…chief among them being _Why was Jen here?_.  
  
The food hit the spot, and he could practically feel the strength returning to his limbs. He still felt a bit groggy, but all in all, he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of bed. He wasn’t used to laying around being helpless. He needed to _do_ something.  
  
“Okay, sounds good,” Jen was speaking to whomever was on the phone, and Jared snapped his gaze to the plate as Jen turned the phone off and turned back around. “Yeah, so, that was Kim.”  
  
“And?” Jared began to feel queasy at the thought that he might be responsible for holding up filming when they were on such a tight schedule as it was.  
  
Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, twisting his head around as muscles popped. “They’re gonna go ahead and film the vamp sequences, give you a few days to recover.” His expression took on a serious glint. “And if you ever do something like this again, he’ll kill you.”  
  
“Me?” Jared bleated, holding an offended hand to his chest. It didn’t matter that he’d just been thinking the exact same thing, to have Jensen glaring at him like that… “I got _sick_ , man!”  
  
“Yeah, and you didn’t tell anyone until it was too late,” Jensen shot back. “Jesus, Jared, when are you gonna grow up and act responsibly?”  
  
“Oh, fuck _you_ ,” Jared snapped, throwing the plate on the ground and sitting up. The sheet fell to his waist, exposing his naked chest. Jensen’s gaze fell, but Jared was too pissed off to notice. “Suddenly I’m not _responsible?_ , Jen?”  
  
“You’re gonna tell me you just didn’t notice you had the flu?” Jensen replied sarcastically, arms folded across his chest. “There were no symptoms you could have _mentioned?_ ”  
  
“Did you notice?” Jared snapped, then wanted to sink into the floor as Jen’s eyes flicked to his. His gaze was hot, and Jared’s head began to pound. “Dude…we were filming for hours a day, and you didn’t notice, either. No one did. So fuck off.”  
  
“Oh, so now it’s my fault?”   
  
Jared wasn’t even sure they were talking about him being sick anymore, and thrust his chin out defiantly when Jensen strode forward.   
  
“I guess it’s also my fault that you went out and got plastered with Welling, and ended up busting your head open on a dirty bathroom counter,” Jensen continued, his voice rising as he got right in Jared’s face.   
  
“Well, at least I didn’t get my hand broken in a bar fight again,” Jared returned snottily. “You know, helping out a _responsible_ friend and all.”  
  
“You…goddamn, immature…”  
  
One second they were breathing heavily, glaring at one another with enough heat to blow up a building. The next, Jared found himself sprawled out on the mattress, Jensen on top of him.  
  
“Fuck you,” Jen muttered hoarsely, his lips buried in Jared’s neck. He bit down, chasing the sting away with his tongue. “You sonofabitch.”  
  
Before Jared could wrap his head around what was really happening, Jensen was gone.  
  
  
 

______________________________________________________

  
  
  
  
 

**Lesson # 6: _Some Mistakes Are Too Much Fun to Make Only Once._**

  
  
  
“Well, I’m taking off,” Jeffrey slapped Jared hard on the back, covered in fake blood and still sporting the creepy contacts used for the close-ups he’d just finished filming.   
  
Jared paused his PSP, looking up with a smile. “Gotta get to LA?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. You know they pay me more.”  
  
“Uh huh…like staring at Katherine Heigl’s tits is better than working with me,” Jared scoffed. He looked back down at his game, a brow cocked. “You’ll be back.”  
  
“Let’s not get mushy, kid.” Jeff turned on his heel and started for the guest trailers. “See ya around.”  
  
“You’ll be back!” Jared yelled, breaking into a grin as Jeff shot him a look over his shoulder, then chuckled. He sank back into his director’s chair and focused on the video game to pass the time until he was needed for another scene.  
  
Someone called his name, and he glanced up, smile at the ready until he found himself abruptly looking at Jensen. Everyone else vanished from his mind’s eye as they stared uncomfortably at one another, Jensen’s hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.  
  
“It’s a wrap,” he mumbled, and Jared couldn’t help but catch the hint of frustration evident in his friend’s tone. “We’re officially unemployed until the new network makes their final decision in May.”  
  
“Shit,” Jared answered slowly, feeling the weight he’d been suppressing the past few weeks finally come tumbling down on top of him. “But…I thought they wanted to redo those last few shots in the Impala?”  
  
Jensen cleared his throat, not quite meeting’s Jared’s eyes. He traced his jaw with a thumb, looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. “Eric, uh, was satisfied. It’s over, man.”  
  
And just like that, it was.  
  
There didn’t really seem to be anything else to say, so Jared just gave a numb nod as Jensen inclined his head and turned to leave. He paused, glancing back at Jared, then walked on.   
  
Jared watched him go, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. And this time, he knew it wasn’t the damn flu. It was knowing that he’d quite possibly just said goodbye to someone in his life with whom he had some _serious_ unfinished business.  
  
By some unspoken agreement, he and Jensen hadn’t mentioned the awkward moments that had taken place in Jared’s bedroom a little over two months ago. They came to work, did their job, and hammed it up for the network, but any real interaction had been severed the minute Jensen had taken off that day.  
  
Jared knew that people were starting to talk about them; Mike and Tom didn’t bother to hide their curiosity whenever they were all together, and even Eric and Jeff had both taken to pulling him and Jen aside and asking if there was anything they should know about.  
  
Sometimes Jared almost wanted to tell them the truth, just to see the expressions that would be sure to follow. And then he realized, hell, he didn’t even know what the truth was.  
  
Tom must’ve told Jensen about his breakup with Sandra; because he’d caught Jen looking at him oddly on more than one occasion as the days went by without Sandy bouncing on the set to greet him. But it was, of course, never mentioned.  
  
“Hey, what’re you still doing here?” one of the crew stepped up, hoodie pulled tight over his head as he regarded Jared curiously. “Storm’s coming in. If I were you, my ass would already be at home.”  
  
“Right,” Jared managed, blinking twice and coming to his feet. “Yeah, let me just…” He thumbed in the general direction of his trailer and started backing away. The crewman shook his head and turned to someone else as drops of rain began to fall from the sky. As he walked, Jared mentally pumped himself up.  
  
They’d be back. Of course they would. The show’s ratings were drawing in more and more people every week, they were receiving high praise from critics everywhere…there was absolutely no reason for him to worry.  
  
Hiatus was usually a time he looked forward to, a time to freaking _relax_ and get a much-needed break, spend some time away from the people you saw too damn much of every day for months on end. God only knew he should feel that way now.  
  
But he was dreading the months away from _Supernatural_. Away from Jensen, especially with the way they’d apparently left things.   
  
Sometimes Jared wondered if he’d made the damn sex up in his demented brain.  
  
Christ, maybe he’d just go down to North Carolina. Chad’s life was bound to be more fucked up than his own at the moment, regardless.  
  
He was making vague plans of calling his friend up and cross-checking schedules as he entered his trailer, dragging layers off his body and tossing them into the corner. He felt too dirty and disgusting to wait for a shower at home, so he switched on the hot water and finished stripping off his jeans as the steam began to rise.  
  
It was while the water was washing away the grit from the day’s filming that Jared realized he couldn’t just leave without saying _something_ to Jensen. Even if it was just “Have a nice life.”  
  
He toweled off, debating with himself up until the moment he finally just threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and grabbed a potted plant that someone had left on a table by the door.  
  
He ran the short distance to Jensen’s trailer, rain soaking through the heavy cotton as he pounded on the door, chest rising and falling. Jen probably wasn’t even _there_ , and this was a pointless waste of time. He should probably just turn around, get in his car and leave…  
  
“What the hell?”  
  
He looked up, realizing that the door was open and Jen was staring down at him like he was insane, eyes flicking back and forth between the plant and Jared.  
  
“I, uh…” Jared stared, blinking. Jensen gripped the towel more securely around his hips and lifted a brow. Jared swallowed. “I brought you flowers,” he heard himself saying, and had to bite back the hysterical laugh.  
  
“Jared. That’s a tree.” Jensen looked like he wanted to run far, far away. Jared couldn’t exactly blame him.  
  
_I brought you flowers? Oh, Christ Jesus._  
  
He managed a laugh, dropping his gaze to the pot in his hands. Sure enough, he immediately recognized it as a Japanese maple tree – one of his mama’s favorites. “Well, look at that. It is.” He squinted. “Who the hell gave me this?”  
  
“I thought you were giving it to me,” Jensen questioned wryly, leaning against the side of the door. The action drew the towel apart across his upper thigh, revealing thick muscle. Jared’s eyes fixed on the spot, something heavy and syrupy fogging his brain until he was almost sure his tongue was hanging out.  
  
The flowers-plant-tree-whateverthefuck fell to the ground, and he had his mouth on Jensen’s as lightening flashed across the parking lot. There was a lot of cursing and stumbling around, but he managed to kick the door shut as he and Jensen collapsed on the floor of his trailer. He clawed at the edges of the towel, the thin material ripping in his hands as he tore it from Jensen and threw it blindly across the room.   
  
“Slow down,” Jensen panted, his own hands fumbling at Jared’s zipper. “Jesus, Jared…”  
  
“Dude, I want…” He swallowed hard, biting his lip as Jensen stared up at him. His frustration overflowed, spilling out in a raw voice. “Goddamn it, you _know_ what I want.”  
  
Jensen’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes lit up just slightly. “Yeah,” he rumbled in that deliciously low, shivery voice. He propped himself up on an elbow, lips swollen and hair tousled. “But in the trailer?”  
  
“Who the hell’s gonna bother us?” Jared wondered, eyes dropping to Jensen’s lap where some very _interesting_ things were starting to happen. He reached out, taking hold of Jen’s cock and relishing the sharp breath that followed.  
  
“Fuck.” Jensen spread his legs, falling back on the floor with a groan. “Do that again and I won’t give a shit.”  
  
But Jared had other plans. He released his grip on Jensen, ignoring the sound of protest Jensen uttered, and finished jerking his jeans down. Jensen watched him with hooded eyes, his own hand wrapped around his dick as he lifted an appreciative brow.  
  
“What is this, a strip-tease?”  
  
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Lay back.”   
  
Jensen’s brows went higher, but he complied with a shrug. Stretching out on the floor, arm behind his head, he eyed Jared curiously and casually stroked himself. Jared muttered a low curse, fumbling his pants over his shoes.  
  
Then he jumped on Jensen, grinding their hips together. Jensen’s voice broke on a suffocated moan. “Fuuuck…”  
  
Jared’s teeth clenched as he stared down into Jen’s flushed face. “This is insane,” he managed, taking hold of Jensen’s leg and lifting it for a better angle. “You and me…fucking hell, Jensen.”  
  
“You’re tellin’ me.”  
  
Jensen’s slow drawl was in full force, and it gave Jared a sense of satisfaction to know that it was due to _him_. Due to whatever this crazy chemistry between them was.   
  
He reared back, ignoring the shocked gasp as he swallowed Jensen’s cock. Jensen lifted his hips, sputtering every curse in the book, and some Jared hadn’t heard of, fucking Jared’s mouth like he was going for the World Record.  
  
It was…weird. Weird, but hot.  
  
When Jensen reached down to slip a finger between his dick and Jared’s cheek, Jared relaxed. Jensen’s other hand gripped his neck, pushing Jared closer, muttering dirty phrases beneath his breath as he twitched in Jared’s mouth.   
  
Jared knew right then and there that there was nothing fucking hotter than Jensen Ackles, eyes bright and sinful, begging you to “Suck me harder.”  
  
Jensen eagerly returned the favor, and things didn’t start to die down until both of them were laid out on the floor, shaking and sweating. Completely spent. It was then that Jared began to feel the bruises that would surely begin to pop up on his body the next day, and he glanced over to find Jensen wincing himself.  
  
“I need a cig,” Jensen murmured sleepily, running a hand through his close-cropped hair and releasing a heavy breath. “Or a drink.”  
  
“Mmm,” Jared rumbled in agreement. He turned on his side, eyeing Jensen warily. “We gonna talk about this?”  
  
“What, you attacking me in my own goddamn trailer?” Jensen answered, eyes closed and a smile stretching across his lips. “Seems pretty self-explanatory to me. You’re hot for my body, Padalecki.”  
  
Jared snorted, relieved that things wouldn’t dissolve into a big emotional scene. “Bitch.”  
  
“Yeah, I love you, too.”   
  
The words were joking and sarcastic, but they struck a chord in Jared anyway. He rolled over completely onto his stomach, head propped on his arms as he stared at Jensen. “Hey.”  
  
Jensen rolled his eyes, lips curved. “Oh God, you’re a talker, aren’t you?”  
  
But Jared read the anxiety beginning to creep into Jensen’s voice, and knew his friend was remembering the way things had ended the first time. He resolutely stayed silent until Jen finally looked at him, then said, “Listen…what’re your plans coming up?”  
  
“I’m open to suggestions.”  
  
Jared took the hint. He scooted closer, fingers running across Jensen’s shoulder as he absently took inventory of a small sprinkling of freckles. “Wanna come to Wilmington? Chad’s about to get a divorce,” he murmured, bending his head to press a kiss against Jensen’s collarbone.  
  
Jen’s chest rose. “Is he even married yet?”  
  
Jared held his gaze and licked. “No.”  
  
Jensen’s hand found him, half-hard and growing. He squeezed, a devilish light in his eyes. “Yeah, man, I’m in.”  
  
 

____________________THE END_______________________


End file.
